Finding the light
by globalflatline
Summary: Everyone is human, attending a normal, mundane, school. When tragedy occurs, Clary's life is turned upside down and suddenly she more complications in her life when she is sent to live with her father that she has never met and befriends people who change her life.


**This is my first attempt at writing so be nice and constructive please!  
I based this off a story I read on here back in 2010, I am pretty much just re-writing it in my own words and changing what I like, also the author didn't finish it and has no updated in over two years so I wanted to finish it!  
I do not own the original story idea but all of the writing is my own, I have completely re-written this using the other story as my guide (:**

**Disclaimer: I do not own :c**

Clary was pushing through a sea of people in her school corridors; everyone was rummaging through their lockers; eager to get home. It was hard to get through the corridors without colliding with something, especially considering she was so small. Clary stood a little over five feet, she had bright Red curly hair and big green eyes, even though her hair made her stand out though people seemed to ignore her presence, just as she was thinking this someone pushed her into a wall as the rushed to get home; she paused for a moment but then continued on her impatiently trying to get out of the school when she heard someone call her name.

"Clary, wait up!" Simon chased after her down the school corridors as the final bell rang, after catching up with her he managed to get out the words "do you want to hang out at my house now?" between breaths.

Simon had been her best friend for as long as they could remember, he was tall, thin and had unkempt dark hair that fell into his eyes. Simon was as familiar to her as her own reflections, where there was Simon there was Clary.

"Heeeellloooo? Earth to Clary." Snapping her out of her reverie she responded "Sure, mum is working till the evening and I don't think she'll mind."

Simons room was not exactly big, but it was home to her. His king-single bed along the wall with Star Wars bed sheets, the messy tv cabinet that contained an xbox and numerous DVD's that were all manga & his desk that had at least 50 video games on it and his laptop switched off. They were playing Soul Calibur when Clary's phone began to ring, pausing the game she answered.

"Hello?"  
"Hello, is this Clarissa Fray?"  
"Yes, who is this?"  
"I am officer tanner, I'm afraid there has been a severe accident involving your mother."  
"My mum? Is she okay?" Clary was frantic as the officer explained what had happened.  
"Unfortunately no, she was caught in a cross fire whilst walking past a store that was being held up. Sadly, your mother did not make it."

Clary dropped the phone and sunk to her knees, tears streaming down her face. Simon did not hear what the officer had said but he knew something was terribly wrong, Clary rarely cried. He wrapped his arms around her. "Clary, what happened?"  
Eventually she said "My mum was killed" and broke down even more.  
Simon was shocked, Jocelyn was like his own mother, she had always made him feel welcome and treated him like a son and now she was gone. A single tear escaped from his eyes before he stopped himself, Clary needed him, he would not let her see him cry; he had to be strong for them both.

Simon's mum took Clary in for a couple of weeks; she offered Clary a place to stay and even offered to be her legal guardian. However she could not accept the offer that Simon's mum had given her as her she already had a legal guardian, her father. She had never met her father, her mother had left him before she was born, Jocelyn had never spoken about him but she had seen the scars on her mother's body and was dreading the idea that she would be soon living with a complete stranger and social services were forcing her to go live with him, just like that, a man who she had never once met in her life.

Her new home was a small town, isolated from most of humanity; that was known as Idris. The population may as well have been microscopic as finding the town on a map was near impossible. She rode in the front seat of the police car, silently the whole way to her father's house, reliving her last moments with Simon over and over in her head; they had promised to write each other every week. When she arrived at her father's house she was momentarily in awe of their house, till she realised that the enormous country house she was staring at was the next door neighbours and the house she would be living in was a tiny weatherboard house. She was surprised that her father would live next to a house that was so magnificent in comparison to his own.

There were three teenagers outside in the yard as they drove past, two boys who were throwing a football to each other and a girl who was laying on a lawn chair reading. They all stopped and stared as she drove past. Clary was shaking as she walked up to the front door of her father's house. The police officer knocked on the door and a tall man with broad shoulders and white hair opened it. His dark eyes examined Clary as if she were a bug, he turned to the officer his eyes and mood lightening.

"Good evening, Mr Morgenstern. This is Clarissa Fray, your daughter."

He looked her up and down once, signed the documents the officer presented him with and brought her inside without saying a word. She stood in the entrance of her new home, taking in her surroundings. It was an old house, made of wood with little sign that anyone lived here as the walls were bare and it looked utterly lifeless. Her father walked over to a door under the stairs and said, "Clarissa, this is the basement which I use as my study. You are not to ever enter this room and if you do, you will regret it. Your room is upstairs; you are responsible for making your own food, getting ready in the mornings and finding your way to and from school. Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

With that he walked off entering his study, leaving her with the minute amount off luggage she owned, in the doorway. She brought her things upstairs, to her bedroom which she found instantly. It was a small room, full of dust looking as if it hadn't been used in an exceedingly long time. There was an old single bed in the middle of the room; that creaked when she placed her things on it, a desk lined the far wall and the wardrobe would just fit all of her clothes. She sized up the room; thinking of ways that she could make it her own, she then looked at the bed again and repressed the feeling of disgust. She stripped the bed of its contents, put on a black sheet, followed by a light blue blanket and instantly felt a little better about the idea of sleeping on it.

The third night that she was at her father's house she experienced something horrific.  
It was the first time that he had come home from the bar and he was highly intoxicated. He walked into her room, already yelling with a wrathful look burning his eyes, swaying slightly he came over to where she sat at her desk. Clary was terrified, no one had ever looked at her like that, with pure hatred and she hadn't even done anything. He shouted at her how it was all her fault that her mother had left, her fault that everyone that he loved had left him and as he shouted his ruthless hand connected with her face. Too shocked to move Clary just sat there and before she knew it she was on the ground, protecting herself as the hard toe of his boot struck her rib cage. Gasping with pain she began to cry wishing that it would soon be over.

When she woke the next morning, she could feel the bruises forming that he had given her and she couldn't find the strength to move. She lay there for a while and wished that she could just lay there forever; however the sound that her stomach was beginning to make informed her that she would need to get up. She winced as she propped herself up onto her elbows, it hurt to move her arms which had been the worst area because she has tried to helplessly protect the rest of her body but she eventually stood up and walked out her bedroom. She cringed at the sound of her father's voice she walked downstairs; there was another person there too. She had already dressed so that the marks were not visible and maybe he didn't remember what he done because of the alcohol in his system.

She made her way to the kitchen, and as she made herself some toast her father walked in. "Hodge, this is my daughter; Clarissa, this is our neighbour, Mr Hodge Starkweather"  
"Good Morning, Mr Starkweather," she said politely and added, "What a lovely house you have."  
Smiling at her he replied "Thank you, but that isn't my house. I just live there. I am Mrs Lightwood's brother; her and her husband are often out of town so I look after their children."  
"That's a rather very fortuitous situation for you," not wanting to be around her father too long she added, "now I'm sorry but if you'll excuse me, I have to go have a shower."  
With that she left the room, racing upstairs quietly. She ate her food and then got back in bed, closing her eyes and letting sleep take her.


End file.
